


Voltron Week 2016 Ficlets

by Lobo_Loca



Series: Voltron Week 2016 [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, Fluff and Crack, Found Family, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-11
Updated: 2016-08-16
Packaged: 2018-08-08 03:27:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7741621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lobo_Loca/pseuds/Lobo_Loca
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The ficlets I wrote for Voltron Week that were too short to justify separate postings outside of Tumblr. </p><p>Day 2: Lions/Voltron - The Lions Sleep Tonight<br/>Day 3: Home/Family - Tell the World (I'm Home)<br/>Day 5: Relationship (Platonic or Romantic) - It's Not Easy<br/>Day 6: Aliens/Food - Midnight Snacks<br/>Day 7: AU/Crossover - Call It Torture, Call It University</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Lions Sleep Tonight

Pidge pressed the com unit in the Green Lion hanger, glancing over their shoulder one last time, before saying, “I just want to say that this is in no way my fault.”

After a moment, Allura’s voice crackled over the com unit’s speakers. “What’s wrong, Pidge?” she asked.

“Well,” Pidge said, glancing at the green adolescent lion investigating one of the hanger’s pillars, “It would appear the Lions—or at least Green Lion—has been turned into, well. Into a lion.”

Without pause, Allura asked, “Are you alright? Is Green Lion hostile?”

“I’m fine.” Pidge glanced at Green Lion, watches them turn away from the pillar to investigate their tail, and reports, “They seem pretty docile right now. Curious more than anything. If this is something affecting all the Lions, Red Lion is the only one I think might be hostile so you should probably give Keith a heads up.”

Pidge glanced over their shoulder again, and startled to find Green Lion much closer than before and sniffing at the hem of their shirt. “Uh, hello there, kitty. Er, Lion. Nice Lion.”

Green Lion reared up and put their paws on Pidge’s shoulder, forcing Pidge to the ground with a loud _thump_.

“I’m okay!” Pidge called from the floor as Green Lion started…licking their hair? “If this is a comment on the state of my hair, I’ll have you know it’s not my first choice. I’m thinking about growing it out again actually, but that would mean having to put it up a lot and getting a bigger helmet—which would take up time I could be spending on research and upgrades—so you know, still debating.”

After a bit, Green Lion stopped licking and started purring as they rubbed their cheeks against Pidge’s head.

“Oh, yay, scenting. Are you going to get off now?”

Green Lion didn’t so much as twitch, apparently content to just pin Pidge to the ground and purr.

“I’m going to be stuck here until you find something more interesting, aren’t I,” said Pidge resignedly into the fluff of Green Lion’s neck.

 ----------------

Lance, unsurprisingly, made a beeline for Blue Lion’s hanger the moment he heard that the Lions were now actual lions. At first glance, the hanger seemed empty, but knowing Blue Lion, Lance figured they were probably around somewhere exploring. He wandered around the hanger, glancing into larger nooks and eyeing ledges that would fit an adolescent, if not adult, lion.

Passing a work bench, something attack his ankle with soft claws and dull teeth. Lance glanced down and snorted at the little blue lion cub trying to gnaw on his shoe. Lance picked up Blue Lion by the scruff, and inspected them. They meowed at Lance, paws flailing in the air. Lance brought Blue Lion closer and Blue Lion bopped him on the noise with their paw.

Laughing, Lance said, “We are going to have an absurd amount of fun together while you’re like this, aren’t we.”

Blue Lion sagged in Lance’s grip and purred in agreement.

“ _ So much fun _ ,” Lance whispered, settling Blue Lion on his shoulder and striding gleefully towards the elevator.

\-----------------

Yellow Lion trotted over to Hunk’s feet as soon as the elevator reached the hanger. They sat pointedly on his foot, and meowed up at him until Hunk bent down and scooped up Yellow Lion. 

He cradled them to his chest with a soft, “Hey there, buddy.” 

Yellow Lion started purring like tiny engine and Hunk breathed, “You’re not a tiny fluffball of murder and rage, oh thank god.”

\-----------------

Keith approached the hanger cautiously, even though Red Lion was very clearly sprawled out in the middle of the floor and not lying in wait for ambush. They watched him impassively as he inched closer. Keith held out his hand for them to sniff. Red Lion stared at it for a moment before licking it. Huffing, Keith slowly picked them up. 

“What you doing?” Keith asked Red Lion as they sunk their claws into his shirt. After a moment, they started to climb. “Oh, no, don’t do that. Please don’t—ow, ow,  _ ow _ , ow,  _ OW _ .” Red Lion stretched out across his shoulders and hooked both their front and back claws into the shoulders of his shirt.

Keith sighed and didn’t bother trying to dislodge them. He’d rather not have to deal with getting clawed  _ and _ bitten.

\-----------------

The four Paladins gathered in the lounge with their Lions. Pidge was pinned to a couch, working on their tablet with one hand and keeping Green Lion occupied as they laid on Pidge’s lap with an improvised cat toy in the other hand. Lance hand found an Altean laser pointer from somewhere and took glee in flinging the red dot around the room for Blue Lion to chase. He especially seemed to like to dance the dot around where Keith sat reading, Red Lion occasionally swatting at the dot or Blue Lion with one paw while keeping a secure hold on Keith’s shoulders. Sprawled out over the couch beside Pidge, Hunk and Yellow Lion napped.

Black Lion wandered up at some point in their adolescent glory. They went around, nosing and checking on Lions and Paladins alike before stretching out in the middle of the lounge to nap. Shiro eventually got up and came to see what the fuss was about. He glanced around at the Paladins and their Lions as Black Lion padded over to him. He looked down at Black Lion and Black Lion look back at him passively, blinking slowly.

“I’m going back to bed,” Shiro told them. “You’re welcome to join me until Pidge and the others have worked something out.”

Shiro headed back to his bunk, Black Lion trailing behind him sedately.


	2. Tell the World (I'm Home)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Technically part of the You Could Be Happy 'Verse post "if you'll be my stars" (Day 1) and pre "Sunflowers & Forget-Me-Nots" (Day 4) but neither are required for comprehension.

Pidge, Hunk, and Lance were crowded in front of the hologram of Earth, arguing and tussling as they tried to turn the hologram and make routes.

Shiro and Keith hung back, less enthusiastic about the trip back to Earth than the others. They were orphans, and homeless aside from the Castle of Lions. Earth may have been their home planet, their place of origin, but it wasn’t  _ home _ .

Pidge talking a mile a minute about tech and upgrades that Hunk could barely follow. Lance flirting obnoxiously with Allura even though he knew all he’d be getting was an eye roll and an exasperated smile. Keith nearly giving Lance a heart attack when he finally got the “I say Vol, you say Tron” chat and then refusing to do it ever again. Shiro coming back to his quarters from a post-nightmare workout to find the rest of the Paladins in the midst of an impromptu slumber party. Coran’s odd Altean proverbs and stories for every occasion. Allura beating them all in every training simulation imaginable. Pidge and Allura braiding each other’s hair and trying to convince the boys to grow it out. Keith and Hunk actually succumbing and the six months they sported braids, man-buns, and epic ponytails before they declared it too much hassle and chopped it all off.

_ That _ was home.

“Shiro, Keith,” Pidge called, “anywhere you guys want to go while we’re on Earth?”

Shiro and Keith glanced at each other and shrugged.

“Not really,” said Shiro.

Keith said, “Not like we really have family to visit.”

Lance turned away from the hologram. “What? Guys, pretty much all we’re planning right now is visiting family. You will definitely get drafted for at least one shift at my mom’s shop, and my sisters are going to make you wear flower crowns the entire time. My cousins will all stop by and take pictures to put up behind the counter with the rest of the family pictures. Uncle Juan is going to talk mustache grooming with Coran for the entirety of karaoke night.”

Hunk nodded, adding, “My mom’s probably going to put us to work at the café too, and will push food on you until she finds your favorite. She’s going to make us enough food to last us a month when we leave.”

“My dad will forcibly drag you guys into family game night,” Pidge said. “He’s going to break out his worst jokes to compete with Coran, just wait. Uno is going to be  _ insane _ : Matt’s going to sandbag like crazy. My mom’s going to conscript Allura and kick our asses at team Monopoly. But there’ll also be dessert so it won’t be  _ completely  _ horrible.”


	3. It's Not Easy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the angst and hurt/comfort chapter, peeps. It's also a bit more Shiro-centric than intended since the prompt is supposed to be Relationships, but oh well. Still, platonic Space Dads ftw because I do not see enough of it.
> 
> Warning: Descriptive anxiety attack. If you're worried that might bother you, please skip this ficlet.

The diplomatic mission to Athega had been a shitshow, to say the least.

Shiro made another circuit of the lounge, counting heads again and trying not to flinch at the bruises on Pidge’s face or the way they carefully wrapped their wrist, compression bandage covering nearly black bruises, or Lance’s uncharacteristic silence as Hunk wrapped his ribs or the smattering of small gashes on Hunk’s face from where Coran had painstaking pulled out each glass shard, or the stoic expression on Keith’s face as he pulled half-melted fibers out of the burned skin of his calf.

A fissure of pain rocketed up from Shiro’s right bicep again, nearly enough to leave him breathless. He resisted the urge to look at the prosthesis. It was unlikely that the dent and cracks in the arm’s casing had changed in the fifteen minutes they’d been back at the Castle of Lions.

Shiro made another circuit around the lounge, counting heads and watching the door and the windows. He hadn’t lost anyone ( _this time_ ). They were all safe ( _this time_ ). He’d done his job and got everyone out ( _this time_ ). There was nothing to be guilty about ( _this time_ ). He’d done everything he could ( _this time_ ). The team was fine, nothing a little time and Altean medicine couldn’t heal ( _this time_ ). He wasn’t going to lose anyone ( _this time_ ). Their injuries weren’t his fault ( _this time_ ).

Pain rippled through his arm. Shiro clenched his jaw and made another circuit. Pidge finished wrapping their wrist and headed for the door. Shiro stopped and watched them, hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. he breathed in and out, slowly and deeply.

Pidge could leave the lounge. They wouldn’t be in the lab or the Lion hangers where accidents were likely to happen, especially with only one good hand. It was fine ( _for now_ ). The Castle of Lions was safe ( _for now_ ). Pidge was probably just going back to their bunk to rest ( _for now_ ). There was nothing to worry about ( _for now_ ). No one was going to get hurt ( _for now_ ). Even if they weren’t all in his sightlines, everyone was fine ( _for now_ ).

Shiro made another circuit.

Hunk had finished wrapping Lance’s ribs and checked his ankle. Keith had gotten the last of the fabric out and was disinfecting the burn, the twitching of his left cheek the only sign that it hurt. Hunk fitted a brace around Lance’s ankle and set it for twenty minutes of cold with thirty minute breaks. Lance managed to stand but wobbled unsteadily as he tried to hop his way to the door.

With a sigh, Hunk gently took one of Lance’s arms and slung it over his shoulders, sliding a bracing arm around Lance’s waist.

“Thanks, buddy,” Lance muttered tired as they left the lounge.

Ripping open a sterile gauze pad, Keith gently pressed it against his burn. He taped it down on all four sides, dropped the rest of the medical tape into the first aid kit, and moved to stand. Shiro was beside him before he’d fully levered himself off the couch, hands outstretched to help.

Keith batted his hands away, sending another jolt of pain, stronger than the last, up Shiro’s arm, snarling, “I can handle myself,” as he limped off.

Shiro breathed through the pain, keeping as still as he could until it faded most of the way. Slowly, he walked to the little corner of the lounge he’d spotted on his circuits, tucked away from the windows, out of sight of the door, and protected on two sides. He all but collapsed into the corner, back and left side pressed against the walls.

 _I’m safe_ , Shiro thought, over and over again like a chant or a spell. _I’m safe, I’m safe, I’m safe_ . It wasn’t enough to drown out the voice cackling that _it’s just a matter of time. They caught you once, they’ll catch you again. And it’ll be your fault!_

Which wasn’t true, he _knew_ it wasn’t true; it wasn’t his fault, had never been his fault, and he was safe; they were safe now, except they weren’t because the Galra were still out there, still hunting them, paying bounty hunters to hunt them, promising freedom to any planet that brought Zarkon their heads and Shiro had almost lost _everyone_ —

The door to the lounge slid open, startling Shiro into a crouch, powering up his arm in case he needed it—and nearly bit clean through his tongue at the sudden tsunami of pain from where his metal arm met flesh. Shiro collapsed against the wall, panting and tasting the all too familiar metallic tang of blood in his mouth.

Hunk was crouched just inside the lounge, hands held out. He had a small tool roll clenched in one hand, probably because Hunk was more observant than anyone gave him credit for.

Shiro powered down his arm, which brought the pain back to manage levels but still higher than it had been before activating his arm. “Sorry,” Shiro rasped.

“Considering we all just survived the entire population of a planet trying to kill us, I think we’re all still a little jumpy so no apologies needed on your end. Maybe one on my end if I thought you’d actually take it for once,” Hunk replied with an edge of humor before sobering. “Alright if I come closer to take a look, maybe do some repairs?”

“I’m fine.”

Hunk didn’t waver. “Not what I asked, buddy.”

“I’m not going to hurt you,” Shiro said, nearly choking on the words as the memory of the arena resurfaced. _It was to get Matt to safety. We’re safe here_ , Shiro thought desperately, trying to calm the sudden racing of his heart. _We’re safe, that’s not going to happen, we’re_ safe _._

“This isn’t about me,” said Hunk softly. “This is about whether you feel safe having me approach and poke around your arm while you’re in pain.”

 _I never feel safe_ , Shiro thought. _Not really_. He said wearily, “I’d drag you over here myself, but I’ve only got one working arm and it’s not the one strong enough to actually move you.”

“Really? Because I’m pretty sure it was that arm that dragged an Athegan off me while you were using the other one as a shield,” Hunk shot back as he slowly came closer. He sat down on Shiro’s right side, just close enough to reach his arm.

Shiro very carefully rolled his sleeve to reveal the cracked and dented casing and laid out his arm for Hunk.

“I don’t suppose you know if there’s a way to safely temporarily disconnect the neural feedback, do you?” Hunk asked as he unrolled his tools and examined the casing. “We’re probably going to have to replace part of the casing by the way. Luckily it looks like just a couple panels so the skeleton key aspect of your arm is intact, but that does mean a trip down to the lab for measurements and tests to see what sort of materials we have that might be compatible with the rest of the arm.”

Hunk kept talking as he finished examining the casing and moved on to prying off panels. Shiro’s heartbeat slowly crept down and the tightness in his chest eased as Hunk’s words faded until all Shiro could hear was the gentle rumble of Hunk’s voice. Then the pained eased, rather suddenly, and Shiro sighed in relief, nearly brought to tears.

Hunk sat back and smiled sadly to himself. “And that would’ve been dealt with like a million times soon if _you’d actually tell someone about it_ . I love you, man, but this whole ‘must always been strong and always support and protect the team’ attitude has got to stop. It goes both ways: you support us, we support you too. Now, c’mon, we’re going to get you back to your bunk and you are going to _rest_. If that means I have to go sell my soul to Pidge for their 3DS or steal Lance’s iPod, then just say the word, Space Dad.”

“If anyone’s the ‘Space Dad’ in this situation,” Shiro said as he staggered to his feet. “It’s you. Could you be any more parental right now?”

“I could ground you for the next month for unreasonable stubbornness regarding getting treatment.”

“Okay, that’s probably taking things a little too far.”


	4. Midnight Snacks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hunk catches Shiro sneaking a midnight snack and it somehow turned into alien food porn.

Shiro crept into the kitchen, one ear open and the other tuned in to Lance’s surprisingly mellow yoga playlist. Most of the Paladins knew where the goo dispenser in the kitchen was and knew, abstractly, that the kitchen also had a refrigerator (which Coran and Allura called cold cupboards or cold pantry) and a large pantry, but didn’t know where precisely it was. Shiro, Hunk, and Coran were the only ones who knew where the non-goo food was kept, actually. Which was both an advantage and disadvantage when it came to midnight snacks.

Pressing the concealed door release, Shiro peered into the dimly light refrigerator.

The kitchen lights snapped on overhead, accompanied by a triumphant, “Ah- _ ha _ !”

Shiro jumped and spun around to find Hunk standing in his pajamas.

“Huh,” Hunk said, blankly. “I thought Pidge had finally found the fridge. I never considered it might be someone else eating all the chiocca butter.”

“Well, it’s both nutritious and delicious when paired with tresa stalks,” said Shiro as he closed the refrigerator, trying to determine the best way to extract himself from this situation.

Hunk eyed Shiro critically, then nodded to himself. “Go sit down in the dining room. I’ll be out with snacks and hot buuta in a minute.”

“You really don’t have to—”

“Shiro,” Hunk said quietly, “I’m going to make some hot buuta and plate some snacks, and I’m going to bring them to the dining room in about two minutes. If you really want to just go back to bed and forget this ever happened, be my guest. But you’re more than welcome to join me and listen to me talk about the new recipes I’ve been trying out and Garrison era Lancescapades until you’re all but sleeping on the table.”

Shiro hesitate for a moment before heading towards the door. He stopped in the doorway, glanced back at Hunk and said, “You know, you’d probably be hoarse after all that talking. Maybe I’ll share some pre-Garrison Keinanigans.”

“Keinanigans?”

“Keith shenanigans,” Shiro explained. “My mom coined the term when he was like eight.”

Hunk grinned. “Now that is a story I’ve gotta hear.”

Shiro headed to the dining room. After a few minutes, Hunk came out with plates of snacks balanced up both his arms and two steaming mugs with spoons in hand.

Shiro started to stand, only for Hunk to say, “You sit right back down. I’ve been doing this for  _ years  _ and if you try to help I’m liable to drop something.”

Hunk carefully set down the mugs before he unloaded the plates from his arms.

Shiro pulled one of the mugs closer, and took a moment to savor the cinnamon and orange-like scent of the deep navy buuta. Hunk had even added small dollops of faintly orange daach cream, which had a bitter almost-sweet flavor to it that would balance the sweetness of the buuta, which resembled hot chocolate packed with cinnamon and hints of nutmeg and chili powder. According to Hunk, anyway. Shiro only really registered that it was delicious, even if the colors were sometimes disconcerting.

He stirred in the daach cream and a took a sip. “I am never going to be able to drink hot chocolate again thanks to you.”

“I’ll take the compliment,” said Hunk, pleased. He sat down, grabbing one of the purple tresa stalks slathered in green chiocca butter and nudging the plate of thinly sliced smoked lerso meat and daadja cheese layered on grey puuran crackers with some kind of creamy herb spread on top with a slice of brown untu squash.

Taking the hint, Shiro ate one of the crackers then motioned for Hunk to start talking. Hunk started in on one of Lance’s simulator mishaps, and Shiro grabbed another cracker. He’d left the lerso and daadja alone since the meat looked perpetually raw and grey-green-beige space cheese didn’t exactly scream safe for human consumption, but that was obliviously a mistake because the lerso was salty and soft and the daadja was smoky and a little tart while the puuran was just a little crunchy and crumbly with a sort of garlicy-onion-lemon-ish flavor. The result was practically heaven in his mouth.

The puurans had vanished, along with most of Shiro’s buuta, by the time Hunk had finished. Shiro switched out the empty plate for the one filled with the teal sanocca cookies as Hunk regaled him about Lance’s first attempt to ask someone to a school dance. The sanocca cookies were soft and nutty from the chiocca butter, a little bitter from the daach, and mostly likely sweetened by turson root sugar, if the color was any indication.

As the stories flowed, Shiro made sure to chime in every now and again so Hunk had a chance to eat, and the snacks disappeared quickly until only one plate, then only one sweet and spicy fiuran bun remained.

Heated raised voices echoed from somewhere nearby in the Castle of Lions. Hunk and Shiro glanced at the last fiuarn bun, then at each other, and sighed. They each held out one hand palm up with the other held in a loose fist over their palms.

“Best two out of three?” Shiro asked as the voices drew closer.

Hunk threw rock the first time, triumphing over Shiro’s scissors. Just before they threw for the second round, Lance and Pidge entered, arguing. The two stopped at the sight of Hunk and Shiro and the empty plates on the table.

“What are you guys doing up?” Pidge asked.

Shiro turned around to answer, and Hunk took the opportunity to grab the last fiuran bun and eat it.


	5. Call It Torture, Call It University

Pidge gently moved their laptop out of the way and softly hit their head on the desk, repeating, “I hate college,” with each resounding  _ thunk _ .

Wordlessly, Hunk grabbed one of the pillows off Shiro’s bed and slid it between the desk and Pidge’s head without looking away from his mechanical engineering notes or leaving his beanbag chair. Lance made a commiserating noise from the bed, face down in his scattered notes and aeronautics textbooks. On the other end of the bed, Keith had his headphones in and ignored them as he alternated between going through his aeronautics flashcards and eating his way through Shiro’s secret stash of shrimp chips.

Allura grabbed a second mug from the shelf over Shiro’s desk and set it next to hers beside the sputtering coffee pot on Shiro’s mini fridge. The textbooks the mug had been holding up right tipped over and smacked the shelf. Allura eyed them for a moment before shrugging it off. She crouched down and poked through the mini fridge. After a moment, she grabbed the small bag of carrots and dropped it next to Pidge’s head.

“Best keep your blood sugar up, and I am not letting you have another cup of coffee without eating something. You’re close enough to getting an ulcer as it is,” Allura warned.

Pidge sighed into the pillow, and groped for the carrots without looking. “You’re a lifesaver, Allura.”

“Well, that  _ is  _ the plan,” she said, nudging the carrots into Pidge’s questing hand. “I haven’t spent the past six years studying medicine for nothing.”

Pidge made a vague sound of acknowledgement as they struggled to open the bag of carrots. Allura plucked the package from their hands, pulled it open, and handed it back.

“Thanks,” mumbled Pidge, stuffing a handful of carrots in their mouth and chewing noisily.

The door swung open, and Shiro paused in the doorway to survey the gaggle of undergrads (and a med student) that had taken up residence in his room. “I don’t remember giving any of you guys a key.”

Pidge snorted, coughing as they accidentally inhaled bits of carrots.

“Dude, we love you, but you cannot be naïve enough to think anything less than Fort Knox is going to give Keith and Pidge more than a couple moments of pause,” said Hunk, glancing briefly up from his textbook to make sure Pidge wasn’t actually in danger of dying.

“Yeah, but I thought maybe one of my lectures on respecting boundaries would’ve broken through,” Shiro said with a sigh. “Wait, are those my shrimp chips? Keith!”

Keith continued with his flashcards and at another chip. Lance sat up and twisted around to yank out one of Keith’s earbuds.

“Hey!” Keith protested, nudging Lance in the ribs with his foot.

Shiro sighed. “Keith, we’ve talked about you eating all of my shrimp chips.”

“What? I’ll buy you new ones after I clock out from World Market on Thursday.”

“But that’s two days after Professor Coran’s biomechanics final, which I was planning to eat them after,” said Shiro patiently.

Keith shrugged. “Sorry?”

Shiro sighed, dumped his backpack on the ground, and collapsed against the wall. “At least I’ve still got that matcha green tea ice cream though.”

Hunk and Allura exchanged a guilty look.

“Oh come on!”


End file.
